A Christmas Carol
by TCKing12
Summary: When a man known as Zackary Wehrenburg is visited by three ghosts, his whole view of the world around him and Christmas will change.
1. Cast

**Chapter 1: Cast**

Ebenezer Scrooge: Zackary Wehrenburg

Fred Scrooge: Adam Pickles

The Charity Workers: Princess Shroob and Elder Princess Shroob

Jacob Marley: Phil Deville

The Ghost of Christmas Past: Vanellope von Schweetz

Fran: Lil Deville

Fezziwig: Scott Calvin

Isabelle: Regina Wehrenburg

The Ghost of Christmas Present: Prince Hans of the Southern Isles

Bob Cratchit: Peter (Me) Albany

Emily Cratchit: Kimi Watanabe Finster

Martha Cratchit: Rosemary Watanabe Albany

Peter Cratchit: Ethan Watanabe Albany

Matthew Cratchit: George Watanabe Albany

Sarah Cratchit: Melenda Finster

Timothy 'Tiny Tim' Cratchit: Abigail Watanabe Albany

Fred's wife: Jennifer Sinclair

The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come: Erik/The Phantom Of The Opera

Other characters: Various characters from different franchises


	2. Zackary Wehrenburg

**Chapter 2: Zackary Wehrenburg**

_Phil Deville was dead, to begin with. There was no doubt about it. Yes, quite dead; dead as a doornail. Did Zack know it? Oh, yes, he did. He himself said so. He was the one who signed Phil's certificate of death. He was his sole executor, sole administrator, sole friend, and sole mourner._

_Phil had died on exactly the same day: December 24, Christmas Eve, seven years ago. How, I don't know, Zack won't say. What I do know is that rather have an official funeral, Zack had it done in a gloomy undertaker's establishment, so as to avoid paying anything at all, and he showed no sadness over Phil's death, but instead only annoyance over having to pay for his funeral at all. He reluctantly paid the undertaker just two dimes, nothing more. He then took the pennies from the body before the coffin was closed, shook two of them at the undertaker's apprentice saying 'tuppence is tuppence' and left, to run his company alone._

* * *

><p><span><em>"Location: Richmond, Virginia, December 24th 1843"<em>

It was a chilly, frosty day in Richmond. Snow lay thin upon the ground and icicles hung from windows sills. People were burdened up in their coats and hats, trying to keep the cold out. Everyone was happy because it was Christmas Eve and everyone was preparing for the great day that would happen the next day. They did last-minute Christmas shopping, bought roast turkeys for Christmas dinner, and hung mistletoes.

From around a corner emerged an elderly man who was dressed in a black suit and top hat and carrying a cane. He wore an angry, disdainful look as he looked around at the cheery folk in the street. Zack barged his way between a couple without even apologising.

"Watch where you're going!" Zack snapped.

The moment people saw him, their happiness disappeared to be replaced with fear and the carol-singers stopped singing. Other people hurried off quickly. Zack gave an angry snort at them and walked off.

Now, Zack was tight-fisted at the grimstone. He was a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner! Naturally, as you can well imagine, Zackary Wehrenburg was very unpopular. In fact, he was possibly the least popular man in all of Richmond! Everyone shrank away from him as he approached. No one asked him the time or asked him for directions and even blind men's dogs ran off, dragging their owners with them as he drew near.

Zack knew this and he didn't care one bit about it. In fact, he liked it that way, for he was misanthropic and grumpy and never wanted anything to do with other people.

After a few minutes, Zack reached the counting house of his company. The front door sat underneath a sign labelled '_Wehrenburg and Deville: Moneylenders'_. He pushed the door open and entered.

Even after the death of his partner, Phil Deville, Zack did not paint out his name. Some people called it Wehrenburg and Wehrenburg and some Deville, but Zack answered to both. It was all the same for him.

Anyway, once inside, Zack took off his hat and cloak and sat at his desk, writing out a lender and counting coins and dollars and adding them to his purse. He had returned from a business meeting elsewhere, though he had taken the keys to everything with him.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, Zack was writing out a number of small offerings of personal loans. Just then, the front door opened and a man with dark purple hair entered.<p>

"A Merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!" the man greeted.

It was Zack's nephew and only living relative, Adam. Unlike his uncle, Adam was a cheery happy fellow who loved Christmas.

Zack merely snorted.

"Bah, humbug!" Zack snarled.

"Christmas a humbug, uncle?" Adam aske incredulously. He chuckled and asked "You don't mean that, I'm sure?".

"Oh, but I do." Zack replied. He then asked "Merry Christmas? What reason have you to be merry? You... you're poor enough!".

"Well, what reason have you to be morose? You're rich enough!" Adam replied.

Zack rolled his eyes.

"Bah, humbug!" Zack muttered, returning to his paper.

"Don't be cross, uncle!" Adam said.

"Well, what else can I be? In a world of fools, with people wishing each other 'Merry Christmas'? Huh! What is Christmas time other than a time without money, a time where you're a year older and not a penny richer, and a time of balancing books and having every blasted item within presented dead against you? I assure you, if I could work my will, every idiot who goes about with 'Merry Christmas' on his lips should be boiled in his own pudding and buried with a stake of holly through his heart!" Zack snapped.

"Come on, uncle! That's crazy talk!" Adam said.

"I know exactly what I'm saying!" Zack said sternly. He then said "You keep Christmas in your way and I'll keep it in mine!".

"But you never keep it!" Adam said. He then said "It may not have done me good, mind you. But I see Christmas as a time as of charity and harmony, where we open our shut-up hearts and treat others as equals rather than just people from another race. Thus, uncle, while it puts not a penny of gold or silver in my pocket, it's done me good and will continue to do me good and I say God bless it!".

Zack frowned.

"You're quite a powerful speaker. I'm surprised you don't go into Government." Zack said.

"Come on, uncle. Dine with us tomorrow night!" Adam said.

"No thank you!" Zack said.

"Why not?" Adam asked.

"Why did you get married?" Zack asked.

"Because I fell in love!" Adam replied.

"Love? Huh!" Zack asked angrily. Zack snorted and he muttered "Good afternoon.".

"Uncle, you never came even before I married Jennifer. Why can't we be friends?" Adam asked.

Zack didn't say anything except "Good afternoon." again.

"I'm sorry you're so resolute but I shall keep my cheeriness to the last!" Adam said. He turned to leave and said "So, a Merry Christmas, uncle and a Happy New Year!".

"Good afternoon." Zack repeated.

Adam rolled his eyes and left, chuckling to himself.

As Adam left, two more people walked into the building. They were Shroobs, who were sisters.

"Wehrenburg and Deville's, I believe. Do we have the pleasure of addressing Mr. Wehrenburg or Mr. Deville?" the shorter of the two Shroobs, Princess Shroob, asked.

"Mr. Deville has been dead seven years this every day." Zack replied.

"Well then, I'm sure his liberality has been passed on to you, Mr. Wehrenburg." the taller sister, Elder Princess Shroob, said.

Zack frowned. The word 'liberality' was very ominous to him.

"At Christmas time, Mr. Wehrenburg, it is our wish to give money to the Poor and Destitute, whose who suffer greatly due to the cold. Thousands need comfort and necessaries at this time." Princess Shroob said.

"Are there no prisons? Are the Union workhouses still operating? The Treadmill and Poor Law still enforced?" Zack asked.

"Well, yes." Princess Shroob replied, shrugging.

"Then I am pleased to hear so. I'd hate to hear that they'd stopped working." Zack said.

Elder Princess Shroob continued speaking.

"A few people, including ourselves and our old friend, Yoob, are endeavouring to raise a fund for the poor to pay for food and warmth, wanting to furnish peace of mind and body. This time of festivity is the best time because we want to make as much people as we can." Elder Princess Shroob said. She then asked "So, how much shall we put you down for?".

Zack pretended to think about it for a few moments, before saying "Nothing!".

"You wish to be anonymous?" Princess Shroob asked.

"I wish to be left alone! I don't find Christmas 'merry' and I don't wish to make lazy people 'merry'. I support the establishments of our working society and people should work there!" Zack replied.

"But many are badly ill and they would rather die!" Elder Princess Shroob said.

"Then if they would rather die then they better do it, and decrease this surplus population!" Zack snapped. He then said "A man should look after himself and his family and mind his own business, not interfere in others! Besides, if I give to the poor, I'd have less work on my hands! So good afternoon to you both!".

Zack then returned to his writing without another word.

"Very well, sir." Princess Shroob said, as she and her sister turned to leave.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, it was closing time at 'Wehrenburg and Deville'. Zack had finished his work for the day. He got down from his stool with an annoyed look in his eyes and he put on his coat. With that, Zack left the counting house. He locked the door behind him, grabbed his cane, and walked without another word.<p> 


	3. Phil's Ghost

**Chapter 3: Phil's Ghost**

Zack was walking home to his mansion. It was a gloomy suite of rooms that had once belonged to his old deceased partner, Phil Deville. Zack entered through his gates and headed up his front drive, muttering to himself as he went.

"Merry Christmas? Huh! Can't Adam see I'm not interested in such humbug things? Always cheery, no matter what I throw at him. Why did he have to be a burden on Lil? If only she were here. And those charity workers asking me to make people merry by giving them my money, eh? Huh, I've never heard such nonsense in my life!" Zack muttered.

He made his way up the front steps and stopped in front of his front door. He propped his cane against the door and reached into his coat to retrieve his keys. He was still thinking of what had happened that day, with the result that he fumbled the keys in his fingers as he took them out and dropped them.

"Bugger it! Butterfingers! Why does everything seem to happen to me?" Zack hissed angrily as he bent down to pick the keys up.

Zack selected the key for the door, but as he straightened up again to open the door, he looked back at the doorknocker and jumped back in shock.

Instead of a doorknocker, there was a face of a pale skinned man with brown hair and dark green eyes and he was wearing a bandage around his head. The face was glowing an eerie green glow and its eyes were closed.

Zack stared at the face in shock. He knew that face very well. He reached out to touch it.

"P-Phil Deville?" Zack said.

The moment he touched the face, the eyes flew open, the jaw dropped open, and it howled "ZZZZAAAACCCCKKKK!".

Zack jumped back with a cry of terror, with the result that he fell over down the front steps.

"Get away, get away!" Zack wailed, cowering at the bottom step.

After a few moments, Zack looked up, shaking in terror. The face had disappeared and the doorknocker had reappeared. Zack stared at it for a few moments, wondering if it was going to turn into something else, but it didn't. Zack shakily picked up his keys, which he had dropped again.

"B-Balderdash." Zack muttered to himself, before gingerly unlocking the front door and letting himself into the house.

* * *

><p>Once inside, Zack lit a candle and made his way up the stairs to the next floor. It was very dark in the house and Zack liked it that way, as it didn't cost anything. However, as he reached his room, he checked through his rooms to make sure there was nothing about. There was nothing in the sitting room, the lumber room or his bedroom or anything under the table or the sofa or the bed or in the closet.<p>

Zack went into his room, satisfied that his house was as it normally was. Still, as an added precaution, he double locked his bedroom door before changing into his dressing gown, nightcap, and slippers and settling down in front of the small fire to have his evening gruel, as he had a head cold.

"I must be imagining things. All this Christmas nonsense must be affecting my mind somehow." Zack muttered to himself.

Just then, Zack heard a ringing noise and he looked up. The bells used to communicate with his house workers had started to ring. These bells hadn't been used in a long time and Zack was confused. The ringing grew louder and louder until their ringing filled the whole house and Zack covered his ears with his hands.

The ringing continued for what seemed like ages before it finally stopped as soon as it had begun. Zack uncovered his ears and he heard another noise, which sounded like a pair of footsteps followed by a clanking noise, like chains. It was coming from below but getting closer all the time.

Zack shrank back in his chair, quivering with fright as the footsteps and clanking noise came closer and closer, up the stairs from the cellar until they stopped right outside his door. Zack stared at the door, trying to pull himself together. Zack took a deep breath and he spoke.

"It's all still a hum..." Zack started to say.

However, before Zack could finish what he was saying, ghostly green objects came flying through the door, all attached to ghostly green chains. The objects were cash boxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers, deeds, and heavy deeds wrought in steel. Some of them flew right through Zack's chair. All the chains led back to the door, through which floated a man.

Zack paled because he recognized the man, even though he had not seen him in seven years. He was his old partner, Phil Deville. Phil was a man with brown hair and dark green eyes and he was wearing a waistcoat and tights. He also drew a chain from around his waists, which led to the objects on the floor, and he had a bandage bound around his head and chin.

Zack didn't want to believe in such a thing but the ghost seemed so real.

"Now, now! What do you want with me?" Zack asked, edging his chair back.

"Oh, much." Phil replied.

"Who are you?" Zack demanded.

"Ask me who I was!" Phil replied.

"Alright then, who are you?" Zack asked.

"In life, I was your business partner, Phil Deville." Phil replied.

"Can you sit down?" Zack asked nervously, pointing at the chair that was opposite of him.

"I can." Zack replied.

"Do it then." Zack said.

Shifting his chains, Phil settled himself down in the chair opposite of Zack and Phil stared at Zack.

"You don't believe in me, do you?" Phil asked.

"No, and I never will!" Zack replied.

"Why do you doubt your senses?" Phil asked.

"Because the slightest disorder of the stomach can make them cheat. You could be the result of an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are! Therefore, I say humbug!" Zack replied, narrowing his eyes.

At once, Zack wished that he hadn't said that because at those words and terrible pun, Phil howled loudly and he shook his chains at Zack. Zack cringed away from him in fright.

"M-M-Mercy! Dreadful apparition! Why do you trouble me?" Zack cried.

"Man of worldly mind, do you believe in me or not?" Phil cried.

"I do! I must! But why are you here?" Zack asked.

"In every life, a man's spirit is required to walk alongside his fellow men. If they fail to do the journey, they are condemned to an eternal journey after death and doomed to wander the earth, able to share anything and tortured by his desires. Oh, woe is me!" Phil replied.

Phil then shook his chains and wrung his hands.

"You are fettered in chains! Why?" Zack asked, trembling.

"I wear the chains that I forged in life. I made them link by link and yard by yard, girded on my own free will. Surely, you recognize their pattern?" Phil replied.

Phil held his chains near Zack, who trembled even more.

"Can you imagine the length and weight of the chain you bear? It was this length and weight seven Christmas Eves ago, but has been labored on since. Yours is a ponderous chain." Phil asked.

Zack didn't understand what Phil meant. He gazed around him, expecting to see a similar chain trailing from him, but he could feel no chain upon his person or any weight of any kind.

"Phil, old friend... t-tell me no more. Speak comfort to me, old friend!" Zack said quietly, trying to look away.

Phil looked at Zack.

"I have none to give." Phil said simply.

Phil moved back.

"I cannot rest or stay and I cannot linger anywhere on this planet. Mark me, in life, my spirit never walked beyond our counting house and it never roved beyond the limits of our money-changing hole. Now, endless journeys lie before me!" Phil said.

Zack stared at his old friend.

"Seven years and you were travelling all the time?" Zack asked.

Phil nodded.

"All that time. No peace, no rest. Nothing but torture of remorse." Phil said mournfully.

"You must have covered a lot of distance..." Zack started to say.

At this, Phil howled again, shaking his chains.

"Oh, I was blind! Blind! I never saw how much my life had been squandered and misused, spending my time counting money with you!" Phil exclaimed.

"But you were always a good man of business!" Zack said desperately.

"Business!" Phil howled, wringing his chains again.

Phil opened his mouth so wide that his jaw snapped, causing him to gaggle and Zack to cringe away in horror. Phil then spoke again, moving his jaw up and down to speak.

"Mankind was my business! The common welfare of my fellow men was my business! Charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence were all my business! It is at this time of year that I suffer the most!" Phil said.

Phil then retied his bandage around his jaw so tightly that he couldn't speak for a moment. He then loosened it to free his jaw before speaking again.

"Hear me! My time is almost over!" Phil said.

"Okay, but don't come down hard on me, my friend." Zack said.

"I am here to tell you that you still have a chance and hope to save yourself from my fate and free yourself from your chain! A chance and hope of my procuring, Zackary!" Phil said.

"You were always a good friend of mine!" Zack said.

Phil smiled and he said "You will be haunted by three spirits!".

"I'd rather not." Zack said timidly.

"Without them, you haven't a shred of hope of breaking your chain!" Phil said. He then said "Expect the first tonight when the bell tolls one!".

"C-Couldn't I take them all at once and get it over with?" Zack asked quietly.

Phil didn't answer that question.

"Expect the second the next night when the bell tolls the same hour. The third shall appear upon the next night when the bell tolls the final strike of twelve!" Phil said. He then said "Remember what I have told you, for your own sake, Zackary Wehrenburg!".

And with that, Phil soared out of the window. Zack followed him, receiving quite a sight to behold.

There were phantoms everywhere. All of them were chained and they were all moaning, wailing and weeping, crying regrets and lamentations and all of them were chained like Phil. Some were chained together and none were free. Some of them Zack happened to know. One of the people who Zack knew was a Alien that looked like a red Lobster, who was dressed in a white waistcoat and bound to a large iron safe. He was wailing to a woman with her infant child, wishing he could help. The misery of it all shook to the bone. Then, within moments, the phantoms had all faded, as had their voices, into the night and it was quiet. How this had happened, whether by fading into mist or had been enshrouded from view, Zack could not tell.

Zack shut the window carefully and looked at the door. It was completely unfazed by Phil's entry. He wanted to dismiss it but he found he couldn't say it. With his mind still full of what he had just happened, Zack laid down on his bed without undressing and fell asleep almost at once.


End file.
